Jessica Seinfeld took one look at her friend Beth Buccini on Wednesday night at her Baby Buggy charity event and moved in to give her a pat-down. Maybe it had something to do with Ms. Seinfeld’s new short, blond haircut, which she refers to jokingly as “butch lesbian cousin.”

And, she added, “I have an obsession with my friends’ breasts.”

Ms. Seinfeld had been refreshingly candid since she rolled into her benefit party at the Victorian Gardens in Central Park, and admitted that two of her three children barely paid attention to her these days, had a bit of an attitude and were sick of her cooking.

None of which you really expect to hear in an era where parents routinely deify their children. But that is what it’s like to be in the company of Ms. Seinfeld, who has a sense of humor that is both deadpan and slightly blue — the perfect plus-one for New York’s wryest comedians, her husband, Jerry Seinfeld.

If she married into fame and fortune, she seems unmistakably at home there, and accepting of the ways in which her husband’s stature helped get attention for her charity back in 2001.

At the time, she had just given birth to Sascha, her oldest, and quickly came to the conclusion that privileged people like herself should find a way to donate their children’s things to poorer families when their children outgrew them.

So Ms. Seinfeld started Baby Buggy and was pleasantly surprised when people started dropping stuff off in the lobby of the Beresford, the Upper West Side building where she lives. “That’s when I realized the idea had legs,” she said.

Outside, at the carnival-themed benefit, there were scores of rides. Music blared. Her children were off somewhere, having fun without her. (The event raised more than $580,000 for the organization, a record.)

Ms. Seinfeld made her way past the Whac-a-Mole booths and the face-painting stations with her husband, who wore a light-blue shirt and Timberlands.

“Let’s go find the newborn,” she said to him, referring to Shepherd, their 8-year-old son. “He’s the only one who doesn’t ignore us at this point.”

Unfortunately, Shepherd did just that. When she found him with a nanny near the pretzel stand, all he wanted to do was get to the next ride.

Oh, well. What can any parent expect at a carnival, where the brains of even the most cultured children turn temporarily into mush?

Plus, Ms. Seinfeld said, there was a girl Shepherd has a crush on.

“Really,” Mr. Seinfeld said. “A girl?”

“Yes,” she said, giving him a look of amusement.

People from the charity approached, requesting photos at the sponsor booths.

“Let’s bang it out,” said Ms. Seinfeld, who ran over to the corner and spent about four seconds posing in her red Opening Ceremony dress and Dior heels.

Various celebrities and fashion types, among them the actresses Jane Krakowski and Bridget Moynahan, and the designers Rebecca Minkoff and Stacey Bendet, made their way over to say hello.

Fans approached Mr. Seinfeld throughout the night, requesting photos. His wife was blasé about it. At one point, Mr. Seinfeld posed with a woman who barely noticed his wife. Ms. Seinfeld simply shrugged and explained how she’s mastered the art of turning her head to the side. “That way, I’m easily cut-out-able,” she said.

As Ms. Seinfeld told it, the fact that she is not to the manner born is a point of pride with her. “I’m a poor girl in a not poor girl’s life,” she said. “So I think like I always have.”

But Mr. Seinfeld took some exception to this.

He turned toward his wife, gave her fancy outfit the once over and said, “You’ve adjusted quite well.”

Ms. Seinfeld flashed a smile. “Clotheswise, yes,” she said, before the pair dipped back into the crowd in search of their two other, slightly indifferent, equally deadpan children.

A version of this article appears in print on , Section ST, Page 9 of the New York edition with the headline: What’s the Deal With His Plus-One?. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe